Burn them

and in the ash
lose yourself
from the empty voyage
from growling eyes
in mirrors and glass
from sad eyes between
the bars of a prison
concepts ideas and
thoughts all are
all are slaves of freedom

Hope

I live alone locked in my jail
looked  into and at
passed by
seeing the sun shine throuh an icy veil
And I hunger in cursed cold and cursed
winters talking to shadows
clawing at my ears to stop the ticking time
hoping something changes

The Pie

There lies waiting
in the pie garden
a specific pie
the wind of which
has chosen to remain
in silent hibernation
Everyone knows
what has happened
and wonders why
but not the pie
especially not
the pie

You Are

the comfort in his arms
his trick for the day
wasted  discourse
crumbles away
into his weak defense
but I don't give a shit
anymore
and it ends that way

It's not about being tired

It's hard to be alive when you feel dead

I don't really even know him

only that I want him

The Dinner Date

When he started bragging about his three condos I felt like throwing up in his face.
Having a picnic under a shit tree would have been more enjoyable.